


The Lost Little Prince; A Tale by Thor

by Chianine



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Crack, Fluff, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chianine/pseuds/Chianine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor discovers fan fiction, but like the great god we know him to be, he is not satisfied just to read the work of mere mortals. He weaves his own tale, of what he wishes happened after Loki fell into the abyss.</p><p>Includes a lot of Loki being cuddled, smothered, and groped against his will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Little Prince; A Tale by Thor

**Author's Note:**

> This was created in response to two awesome prompts, one asking for a character-written fic, and another asking for Loki to be coddled and adored upon by the Chitauri. I thought this would appeal to Thor. The prompts are here:
> 
> http://norsekink.livejournal.com/12132.html?thread=29978724#t29978724
> 
> http://norsekink.livejournal.com/12132.html?thread=29982308#t29982308
> 
> and the second thread is highly recommended because so many people joined in on the fun and their comments to Thor, and each other, and often in character, are really priceless.
> 
> And lastly, I have to recommend Loki's version of some similar fictional events, where he truly proves himself to possess a silver tongue:
> 
> http://norsekink.livejournal.com/12132.html?thread=30064740#t30064740

Noble blood of Kvasir, god of Wisdom, sing through me! I, Thor, of Odin, do hereby take upon myself the quest of the poet! I beseech thee, oh great spirit of Kvasir, to guide me as I tell the tale of Loki among the evil race of the Chitauri, and how he, cold-blooded though he be, warmed the hearts of these fierce warriors and their terrible King Thanos.

Here my tale begins.

Loki had given his heart over to darkness. He had betrayed his family and his people, contrived his brother's banishment, usurped the thrown, and ruined what should have been a very good party. He also broke the Bifrost, and a very expensive window. Still, his family loved and forgave him. But he shunned their love and released himself into the void. Of his own choice. Willingly. He was not flung, dropped, tossed, ejected, or rejected. 

He fell for many moons. And past many moons. He was kicking and flailing, screaming and spinning, until he was tired of that, and then he fell some more, but maybe with more dignity. He began to wonder if vexing his brother and avoiding his father's inevitable curfew restrictions was really worth all this suffering. But what little Loki didn't know was that his real troubles had not yet begun.

Finally his body hit solid rock. He had seen it coming, watched the cold, rocky planet come into view and slowly fill his entire vision, and then recommenced his wailing as he prepared for impact. Upon collision, the shrieking prince bounced and skipped along the sharp surface, raising a cloud of dust. His immortal figure, though not yielding to death, still could not withstand the blow without losing consciousness. 

He awoke to great rumbling that filled the air. He sat up, his head pounding and every part of his body aching. He looked about himself, but could see nothing to account for the great sound that slowly became louder with each passing moment. He noted the landscape; rocky and desolate, a sunless and unformed planet, a lonely and lifeless rock floating in the vastness of space. It was a land of night, and without a sun to distract their glow, Loki feasted his eyes on the only beauty available to him, the massive spread of stars above his head. 

Then he saw it. On the horizon a giant beast came into view, massive and slug-like, gliding as gracefully through the air as its hideousness would allow, and filling his ears with a deafening roar. He recognized the Leviathan, probably from one of his books, and knew them to be used as beasts of burden to the warrior race of Chitauri, probably also from a book, somewhere.

In fear Loki ran. He stumbled and tripped many times over his long and cumbersome robes, which were more suited to lounging around a library or palace den than to the dangers he now faced, or ran from as it were, and his bright and ridiculously shaped helm, which he undoubtedly was still wearing was surely no aid to his quickness or avoidance of being seen. He ran blindly, not seeing any cover or escape, until there was in front of him a large formation of rocks and one among them having a deep-cave like crevice. He headed straight for the shelter's entrance and collapsed. The Leviathan passed overhead, and Loki sighed a breath of relief.

The exertion had roused his hunger, and now that discomfort was added to his many woes. He was still aching and throbbing all over, and found himself in a horribly dangerous place. If he could only find some meager nourishment, he might be able to restore enough strength to send a ghost of himself to Thor, and beg to be retrieved. Thor's unmatched kindness could always be counted on, and then Loki could betray him again later. Meanwhile, Thor could hide him from Odin in his chamber, and while he recuperated he could find some better place to holiday. ~~Maybe Thor could even come with him.~~

The reassurance of this plan calmed Loki's mind and he grew drowsy. He would rest, and upon waking seek food or water. He settled on the cold ground, and warmed himself with thoughts of home, comfortable silk sheets and chocolates, honeyed mead and Thor's warm, protective arms around him, soothing away the memories of this barren planet and the evil deeds that brought him here.

Just then he heard a strange scuttling sound from deep within the cave. He started and opened his eyes, twisting behind him to look into the darkness. He heard the noise again, and then quick, heavy steps moving towards him. He tried to scramble to his feet to get away, but they were already upon him. Six-fingered hands yanked him backward and threw him brusquely against the cave wall. Two held him down from either side while a third stood in front of him, pointing his long weapon directly at Loki's heart. He looked into the face peering over the grey metal shaft and saw angular, reptilian features that he recognized as those of the Chitauri, the cruel warrior race that thirsts for nothing but conquest and slaughter.

His instincts reacted to the danger and his body shot forward in a desperate effort to break free, but four hands held him fast. He was weak and helpless, but his rage and pride refused to accept that this could be his fate. He struggled and writhed against the restraining hands.

“Release me! Fiends!” Loki spat between his bared teeth at the one who stood facing him, assuming him to be their leader. As if in response, he took a step back and lowered his weapon to the ground. Then, if such a thing could be imagined, the Chitauri's features seemed to soften and the eyes widen, as if in wonder. He cocked his head slightly as he continued to watch the little prince, who panted and flushed pitifully as he continued his futile efforts against his captors.

Then the lead Chitauri spoke. It was a series of clicks and groans, not at all sensible to Loki besides the tone, which seemed light and curious. Instantly the two holding him turned to Loki in at once, and their eyes too widened as they made some brief utterances. The Chitauri holding the weapon laid it against the cave wall and took a step towards Loki, who started again involuntarily. The approaching warrior stopped and raised his hand in a calming gesture, clicking softly to him as if to a frightened animal. He stepped closer and began gingerly pulling Loki's helm away. When his soft and raven-black hair spilled out over his ears and temples, all three gasped, and the two holding him loosened their grip.

They all began speaking at once in hushed, excited voices. The lead Chitauri reached his hand to Loki's hair and began combing through it, fascinated, then invited the others to do the same. He felt their clammy hands all over his face and hair, and seeing them distracted, decided to take his chance to get away. He kicked the Chitauri that had taken his helmet and tried to dash off, but they were too fast. They pulled him tight against their bodies, securing most intimately, and the Chitauri that had been kicked looked down on Loki with sad confusion in his face. 

His captors began conversing again, shrugging and exchanging questioning glances. Then the lead warrior disappeared into the cave, and Loki began to regret the mistake of his actions, as he felt they would surely kill him now. But when the warrior reappeared, he carried with him a dull and beaten-looking flask that he then dangled in front of Loki's eyes, as he made more clicking sounds in offering.

“What is it?” Loki asked in suspicion, realizing immediately the pointlessness of his question. But his thirst took over as the creature opened the lid and raised it to Loki's parched lips. He opened his mouth and allowed the draft to be poured in.

He coughed on the bitter liquid. It was strong, but not at all unpleasant, and he felt the benefits immediately. He wanted more.

The Chitauri dangled the flask again, and Loki responded by nodding enthusiastically, and answering in the most meek and humble voice he could muster.

“Yes-yes, please. More. Oh thank you, yes. Yes, more.” he repeated. 

The one holding the flask said something, and Loki's arms were released, though they stayed close after his last attempted flight. His words seemed to charm him, for they began humming and whispering to themselves as he was allowed to take the flask in his own shaking hands. He drank greedily, so thirsty he was and so satisfying the brew. He watched the creatures carefully as he drained the flask, then exhaled deeply as he felt the replenishing effects throughout his body.

He handed the flask back to the lead Chitauri, who received it and spoke some words to one of the captors beside him. They had a short argument, after which his captor reached under his armor and pulled out a similar flask, which was then offered to Loki. He took it, still too thirsty to wonder at this overwhelming kindness he was experiencing. He gulped the contents more than sloppily before, swallowing much air as he did so. His limbs and head felt light and painless as the liquid intoxicated his senses. After he drained the second flask, a great belch escaped his throat.

The creatures stared at him in shock. Loki, not knowing their customs, wondered if his indiscretion may be taken by them as a sign of disrespect and cause him to fall out of their favor.

“Um, pardon me,” he said, voice full of terror. “I'm very sorry about that.”

All at once the Chitauri looked at each other and fell over themselves laughing. Then they begin rubbing their hands in circular motion over his stomach, while another patted him on the back. Then they started in on his hair and face again. Loki could tolerate no more.

“Stop it!” he cried, flinging their hands away from them. They stilled as if in fear, and stared at him. Loki was no longer frightened of them, as he could see they had no intention to harm him. Not yet, at least.

“I am not a pet!” he said, straightening himself, and then in a low and majestic voice, “I am a god. Of Asgard. It is disgraceful that you handle me so casually. You will desist. And return to me my royal helm.” He said, pointing to the corner of the cave where the gaudy thing lay.

None of the Chitauri moved. 

“I said give it back!” He yelled, thrusting his finger angrily. The lead Chitauri shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, in defiance.

“Very well, then.” Loki said crossing over to the helm and dusting it off, somewhat surprised that no one was stopping him. “I thank you for your hospitality, and leave you in peace.”

As he replaced his beloved horns, the lead Chitauri began pointing out the opening of the cave, and speaking in a heated voice. Whether his incomprehensible words were a threat or a warning, he cared not. He had had enough of this foolishness, and need only to find another quiet cave to cast his ghost, now that his strength was restored, and then Thor would quickly come to rescue him. 

Strangely, the monsters did nothing to impede his path as he stepped to the mouth of the cave, though they wore the most terrified expressions. He looked back on them one last time, and thought they really weren't terrible fellows after all, and maybe some of Asgard's cultural texts should be revised.

He walked into the open air, and instantly felt a rumbling in the earth. Figuring it was only another Leviathan in the distance, and no longer having any reason to fear the Chitauri, he continued on with confidence. Then the rumbling grew, until the ground in front of him split open, and a great serpent, nearly the size of the Leviathan, sprang from within. Loki froze as the beast swiveled its head to and fro, seeking the source of the disturbance that had awakened it. Finally it fixed its eyes on Loki, and brought its furious mouth crashing down beside him, piercing the ground with its fangs only steps from where he stood. Loki turned on his heels as the foul breath filled his lungs, and screamed with womanly abandon as he ran back to the shelter of the Chitauri, where he saw them hopping and gesturing frantically for him to hurry. The serpent released its fangs and made another attempt at Loki, but he was already out of reach, having thrown himself into the arms of his new protectors. 

After the beast had slithered back into its crevice and the fear of imminent danger had passed, Loki fell to tears in the arms of his new and only friends. He cried loudly, and deeply, as the last recent panic had opened all the floodgates of his anguish. His friends, who had already been perplexed as to why such a beautiful and harmless creature would be left alone and unguarded on this most dangerous planet, were now even more heartbroken to see him like this. They determined right then and there, that since the only danger he seemed to present was to himself, he would not be permitted to be alone under any circumstances.

They brought him deep inside the cave, to their camp, where they built a great fire. They divested him of his bulkier garments, and gave him some crunchy morsels to eat along with some more of the liqueur to calm his nerves. He snuggled himself on the chests of his new protectors, their broad bodies reminding him of the brother he so loved and feared he would never see again, while others caressed his back and hair. It was not so unnerving as before, as it assured him that there were still those who would look after him and love him, though he wondered how they would react if they knew of his crimes. Loki continued sobbing for many hours, as his heart was laden heavily with sorrow, while he bared his soul and the depravity of his evil deeds upon ears who could not judge him. 

When finally he fell asleep, the softest snore issued from Loki's lips. Two of the Chitauri leaned in closer to hear it, but the one on whose chest Loki lay who wouldn't move a smidge for fear that he would disturb his precious burden. It was the dearest thing they had ever known, for they were drone warriors, cursed to a life where they would never know the love of a mate or of their own young, and the sweet little prince and his snore were the closest to such tenderness that their fate would allow. They had planned to take shifts keeping watch over him during the hours of rest, but instead, none slept a wink that night, preferring to savor every minute of Loki during his peaceful slumber.

When Loki awakened, he has being carried out the mouth of the cave, and a huge Leviathan was landed out front. As he took in his surroundings, he realized he was being passed off to the soldiers within the beast, a few of whom were waiting for their new cargo outside of a small side-hatch. They extended their arms to receive Loki, who clung desperately to the neck of his protector carrying him.

“No, don't let them take me! You don't know what they'll do!”

The familiar Chitauri easily freed himself from Loki's weak grip and laid him in the other soldier's arms. He gave the little prince a reassuring pinch on the cheek and a wave before running back to the safety of the cave, where his other two comrades remained. Loki felt a pang of regret, guessing he would never see them again. 

The soldiers hauled him inside the beast, where an awful stench reigned over all. Grime and dust coated every surface, and a the roar of the engines brought his headache back with a vengeance. Worse still was the throng that stood around gawking at him like some kind of alien creature. 

Loki attempted to be indifferent, to tell himself that he was not not being stared at by some twenty or thirty pairs of gray reptilian eyes accustomed to scenes of gore and violence, but found distraction difficult. Also they seemed to be getting closer, creeping in on him, stepping nearer every time he turned around to look behind himself, until he could feel the warmth of their breath on his skin. He stiffened, and felt something brush the back of his hair. 

“Hands off!” He shouted, spinning around.

His eyes met those of one Chitauri looking particularly surprised, whom he assumed to be the offending party.

“Don't. Touch. The hair.” He said slowly, challenging him.

So focused was he on intimidating this creature that he did not see another hand rise from behind him to softly caress his cheek. He flinched at the touch, and whirled his face around quickly to look into the crowd.

“Restrain yourselves!” He spat, at no one in particular.

As he searched his mind for some threat, posture, or gesture that would command respect, or better, fear, he felt yet more hands indulging in his hair and one beast even reached out and took hold of his long and graceful fingers.

“Aaahh!” he screamed desperately, feeling himself beyond all reason or eloquence. 

He yanked his hand away and began thrashing wildly at the Chitauri swarming him. In his helpless rage he stumbled backwards and fell into them. They descended on him, eagerly stroking any piece of flesh they could get their hands on. They meant no harm, but Loki feared the worst as they forcibly raised his tunic over his head and drew his arms wide apart. Then the manhandling began in earnest. They glided their hands all along his pale chest and sides, fondling him and tickling his armpits when they saw how it caused tiny involuntary laughs to escape his lips between curses.

Loki's ticklishness had long been a secret weakness and he could easily be steered into a state of dire hysteria by a skillful and experienced hand. While these Chitauri may have possessed no such talents with the little trickster, his squeals and pleas for mercy still brought them immeasurable delight. They did not understand the nature of tickling, and could not guess that despite his giggles, his anguish was severe. Again he yearned for his brother, who always knew how to limit tickling punishments so that Loki was not brought to tears and breathlessness. But these Chitauri carried on in ignorance, until Loki believed he would faint.

Finally there was a commotion, and the crowd dispersed, leaving Loki half-naked and exhausted on the filthy ground. A Chitauri officer approached him, and ordered two others to bring him to his feet. He was given some more crunchy morsels and a pat on the head, before being left with two guards whose presence caused the others to cower in fear. Not long after he had finished his snack, the beast was brought to land again.

Loki was both filled with a strange mix of hope and dread as he saw what greeted him outside the craft. There were great structures all around him, obviously those of an advanced civilization, if one with a rather morbid sensibility. In the center of it was a towering mountain with a trail spiraling to its peak. The Chitauri officer that had rescued him from his tickle-torments and his guard led Loki through the city in the direction of the great mountain. Vaguely he wondered if he was to be offered as some glorious sacrifice and began planning for such a turn of events. 

The walk was long and arduous, and Loki regretted being in the care of a civilization without domesticated mountable animals for land transportation. For Loki, walking was dull and too like the activities of a peasant. After passing a turn that had revealed them to be only half-way up the mountain, he stopped dead in his tracks and waited for his chaperones to notice.

“I won't go on. This is absurd.” Loki said, placing his hands on his hips, as he is wont to do in such a mood.

The Chitauri exchanged glances, and then raised their hands to relate their confusion to the beautiful but troublesome alien.

“I'm... bored.” Loki confessed after a moment's reflection. 

Conflicting desires were troubling his mind, and the exercise did nothing to clear them. He wanted peace and privacy that he might cast his ghost, but also he feared the wild beasts of this planet, the last confrontation with one being quite enough for his taste. Also, thirst and hunger began to gnaw at his nerves again. The appetite of an immortal was becoming another inconvenience he had not considered when he so spitefully released himself from his father's staff.

As if reading his mind, the officer reached into his armor and pulled out a shiny flask and shook it back and forth, much as his previous protector had. Upon seeing it, Loki ran forward and snatched it out of his hand, draining it without a word. He handed it back, then turned to one of the guard and held out his palm, now believing he should have whatever he wanted, especially if he was about to be sacrificed. After some little discussion amongst themselves, the guard heeded Loki's silent demand, and handed over his flask. 

Loki's health and spirit returned to him, and once he was given the second flask, he dashed backwards down the road with no clear plan in his head. It was pointless, he knew that as soon as he felt himself being lifted off his feet from behind, but at least it cured his boredom for a few moments.

Against his will, he spent the rest of the journey riding on the shoulders of two guards. They were quite capable of walking alongside each other and providing a rather princely seat for him while they each held fast to one of his legs. He guzzled the second flask, and begin to think that maybe he was enjoying himself. 

He looked up to the stars, which were quite beautiful from his present vantage, and began imagining his brother somewhere beyond them and what he might be doing. Hunting, chasing maidens, carousing with friends, and learning to rule the greatest realm of all must surely occupy his mind. Suddenly a fear struck Loki that he hadn't yet considered- what if Thor no longer cared about him? He had simply assumed that casting his ghost to Thor was all that was necessary to come home. Of course, retrieving Loki from any realm and any danger was no challenge for his brother's vast power, but what if he didn't _want_ to? What if he would be pleased by Loki's predicament, and only laugh at him and order his ghost away from him? Loki had not thought of this.

Then another thought occurred to him that affirmed his worries as he gazed at the emptiness above- _Heimdall_.

Surely Heimdall could see him and everything that he had gone through. He would have told Thor and Odin by now, and if they planned to mount a rescue, it would have already happened.

With that thought his heart sunk with hopelessness as he bounced along limply on the Chitauri's shoulders. He cared not what he would find at the top of the mountain, even if it were death, for surely any destiny besides the return to his home was of no consequence to him.

The guards set Loki at the foot of a great stair carved into the mountain. The entire peak had been transformed into a giant palace, with chambers carved into the rock. Descending the stairs was a great hooded figure whose features were entirely concealed. Loki concluded that this must be the high priest performing whatever ritual he was to be killed during. 

As the priest approached, the officer began speaking to him with grand gestures Loki could not understand the meaning of. Finally the officer pointed to Loki's face, and the priest stopped and drew back his hood.

It was not a pleasant sight. Another Chitauri, it seemed, only bigger. He rushed down the remaining and steps and stood in front of the prince, his arms raised and his eyes widening in an all-too familiar way.

Not this again, Loki thought. He couldn't bear any more fawning or fondling. He crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips, deciding that if he was going to die today, he would die with his “panache,” as the Great Captain of America would say.

And Loki's panache was definitely his unpleasant disposition.

“Don't you dare touch me.” He warned.

The priest lowered his arms slowly to his side and gave Loki a questioning look.

“Dear one,” the priest drawled in a low and dramatic voice, “I am the Other. Tell me your name and from whence you came.”

“The other?” Loki asked mockingly, ignoring the question. “The other _what_?”

“I am the Other.” He replied simply.

“Yes, I heard that.” Loki said, getting irritated. “The other _what_? You say you're the other, but the other what? It's idiotic. The first creature I've found whose words I can comprehend and you speak utter nonsense.”

“My child,” the great figure said, looking defeated, “I am... the Other.”

“Yes, yes! You're the Other. I see! Is that you're title? Horrendous! Did you earn that distinction, or do you call yourself that? Is it meant to frighten me? It doesn't. So you're the Other, so what? If I'm meant to be killed, then get on with it. I've had enough of this charade.”

“My child,” the Other spoke with an eerie concern in his resonant voice, “No one here means to harm you. Tell me from whence you come.”

“I am Loki, prince of Asgard. The king, actually! I am a god, and should be treated as such! Keep me here with like honors and perhaps, when my people come to fetch me, your planet will be spared for the abuses I have already endured. Those are my demands!”

The Other conferred briefly with the Officer, then turned back to Loki.

“You are the son of Odin?”

“Son of Odin?! No! I am Loki!”

“If you are no son of Odin, then how came you to be king of Asgard?”

“Wha- oh-” Loki stuttered, realizing his mistake. “I am a god! Can't you see that? My parentage is no affair of yours!”

The Other argued some more with the Officer, during which Loki had occasion to see the great feast being laid in the hall above him. Hunger groaned in his stomach, and suddenly he was willing to become whatever this lord or priest or whatever would have him be if it granted him entrance to his palace.

“Loki-”

“Yes?” He responded as pleasantly as possible.

“That is your true name?” The Other asked, placing two hands lovingly on his shoulders. Loki did not resist.

“Yes.” He sang, and forced a smile.

“They say you were found wandering the desert, alone. And that you had likely fallen from the void. They say the madness has infected your mind, that you have several times attempted to run from your guardianship into harm's way, and that you scream and wail like a witless babe.”

Loki seethed inwardly, glaring at the Officer beside him.

“Yes, it's true. I am quite witless.” Loki forced himself to say.

“My child, in your madness, you believe yourself to be the son of some distant king. You are lost, without a home or a memory of your true self. But never fear. This can be your sanctuary. I am old, lonely, and childless. You can remain here with me, for all eternity, in peace and happiness. You can call me... father.”

With that, the Other pulled Loki to his chest and held him, rocking him back and forth. Loki allowed this, partly out of disbelief, and told himself as the great creature began humming and caressing his back that he would make a last ditch effort, no matter how hopeless it might be, to contact Thor the first chance he had.

He almost got the opportunity a few hours later, alone in a green phosphorescent bath.

He had endured a dinner comprised of food he thought more appropriate for Sleipnir than any bipedal creature, then complained of a stomach ache. He had probably over-eaten, or at least that was what his “father” told him after giving him an infuriating pat on the backside and sending him to his bath. 

He was tended on by some rather runtish-looking Chitauri, which he hoped were women, since he was disrobed and very conscious of his modesty. They behaved in the expected manner, crouching beside the tub and gazing at him with eyes of full of wonder. A few had tried to touch, but since they were obviously peons in whatever hierarchy existed here, he slapped them rudely away and they made no more attempts. Several times he gestured for them begone altogether, but it had no effect until one of them came into the room, spoke excitedly, at which point they all ran out. Now was his chance. 

He settled deep into the water, and tried to completely still his consciousness. He had a full stomach, silence and privacy, but still the enchantment was a much more difficult feat than he ever let others know. It actually took all of his strength, and usually didn't work when he summoned it, and was secretly surprised each time it did, but made a show of pretending that it was the easiest thing for a sorcerer to do because he was an incorrigible show-off, as the Captain of America would say.

He saw, in his minds-eye, his spirit lifting away from his body. Then he tried to picture the inside of Thor's chamber, and the fuzzy image became more and more clear, until he could actually see his brother resting peacefully in his bed, and his heart leapt for joy, and then-

“Son!”

A loud voice roused Loki from his trance, and with a shock he rushed back into himself with a scream. The Other was standing by the tub with a bar of soap in his hand.

“I have come to tend your bath myself, dear one. That is why I have sent the runts away, that we may have some have some quality time. To... bond with one another.”

Loki noted with consternation that his voice still seemed to echo ominously even in the small bath chamber.

“Lord- father.” Loki said, almost losing his patience, “I am a grown man, and my chastity dictates that I may not be in the presence of such as myself while I am disrobed. I must have privacy during my bath.”

“But son,” the Other said gently, kneeling beside the tub, “I have been told that you are never to be left alone. You are a danger to yourself and cannot be left unattended. My only wish is that I may be the one whose loving eyes never stray from your sweet face. Now, let me wash that raven silk of yours and then we'll soap the rest of you up.”

The Other hummed to himself as he massaged some pungent liquid into Loki's scalp, taking his time. It burned horribly but Loki was not hoping to rush ahead to the next segment of his bath. Luckily, a group of soldiers suddenly rushed into his quarters during Loki's shampooing, much to the outrage of his adoptive father.

The Other sprang up and impaled the first Chitauri he could reach with his fist, shouting in a terrible voice that made Loki cover his ears. He pulled the heart out of the dying soldier and threw it in the face of another, slinging purple gore all over the bath chamber. The remaining warriors knelt at his feet, speaking in frantic voices as their comrade's death throes went unnoticed at the foot of Loki's tub. 

As they spoke, Loki watched as the rage in the Other's face calmed and took on a deep sadness and regret. He dismissed them, and they left dragging the corpse of the dead soldier, leaving a purple trail through what was to be Loki's bedroom.

The Other dropped back to the side of the tub and hung his head in sorrow.

“Son, oh sweet son. This is a great blow for our family, and possibly my undoing. Our legions have failed! The victory I have promised Lord Thanos has failed, and now we are all doomed....”

Loki sat in his tub silently while putrid suds dribbled into his eyes. They stung, but Loki was too aghast to move, watching the still-beating heart of the killed Chitauri flopping about on the floor.

“Unless...” The Other said, raising his face and tenderly placing his gory hand to Loki's cheek, “I can find some way to placate his anger... “

Loki shrunk back from the touch, but the goopy purple hand print remained. So he _was_ to be a sacrifice after all. 

“A bride. That's what Thanos needs. A beautiful princeling to love and to hold. To call his own. Fair, exotic, and soft to the touch...”

The Other's eyes, which had been wandering the room as he imagined Thanos' satisfaction and forgiveness, returned to the little cherub whose terror-stricken eyes matched the water he soaked in.

“Oh my child!” Thanos bellowed, gripping and shaking Loki's nude shoulders, “I know you are loathe to leave your happy home and beloved family, but I have no choice! Think of the future. You will be glorified and worshiped, you will sit high on the throne beside the Dark Lord, and share in his majesty. Do not fear! He will accept you, and by him you will bear many sons. Gods they will be! And they will honor you with great feats of annihilation and pain!”

“My lord!” Loki said, finally gathering his wits to speak, “I think this plan not wise. You don't understand, _I am a man_! How can I bear children to this- this Thanos?”

“Never fear, my boy. Thanos is a great sorcerer. That problem can be easily solved.”

The keep of the Dark Lord was many light-years away. They rode in a special Leviathan, decked within quite royally, but Loki had not the chance to enjoy his surroundings as his father kept him clutched to his chest the entire duration of the trip. The old monster wept bitterly, as did Loki, but for entirely different reasons.

They landed on a strange platform that seemed attached to nothing. Loki looked about himself and felt that it wasn't even a planet he had come to, but a cluster of floating structures and rocks in some distant corner of space. Fluorescent mists floated about, seemingly with a mind of their own, diffusing the glow of stars that seemed close enough to touch.

Loki and his "father" were taken by by a silent and sleek vessel to a grand staircase that extended into the mists above. The operator, whose features were hidden by a great hood, remained as they began to ascend. Loki's feet felt heavy as he followed behind the Other, wishing he did not have the lifespan of an immortal to wait through until death would release him from this terrible fate.

Finally, after passing many layers of mist, a great dais came into view and the stone-like guards that flanked it. Even higher above, a throne, the size of which made Loki's stomach churn. The Other began to speak far below the throne at the foot of the dais, his bizarrely echoing voice an apparent advantage in this place.

“Overmaster,” he started, bowing low. “The Chitauri have given you cause for disappointment. You have been unable to satisfy your Mistress, and in your grief, I beg of your mercy.”

The Other looked up slightly for some reaction, but the throne was as still as a graveyard.

“Great one. Though nothing can atone for this failure, I offer you this as a token of my sincere regrets. This, my son, I give to you, that he may bring you comfort and pleasure, for all the days of your splendid being.”

Guessing that the days of this “splendid being” were to be vastly numbered indeed, Loki could not help wincing at his father's blessing. There was some little movement on the throne, but the shadows that hung over concealed everything but a great blue hand that extended and beckoned him forwards.

“Go, my son. And may all your days be filled with darkest peace.” The Other whispered, nudging him impatiently forward. 

As the Other remained where he stood, apparently waiting to see if his gift was to be satisfactory, Loki saw no option but to go forward and meet his new husband. As he neared the throne, he could make out a massive blue body, muscular but grotesque, not at all as appealing as his brother's, and two beady orange eyes peering at him. But the closer he came, he saw the orange fire cool into a calm blue, and the tense brow soften as it beheld its prize.

“I... accept!”

The voice that boomed out from Thanos' body was like nothing Loki had ever heard before or wanted to hear again. Unfortunately he doubted that wish was to be fulfilled.

The Other scampered away quickly, and again Loki found himself regretting to see the last of someone he had initially been horrified of. 

“Beautiful one, come closer.”

Loki turned from the sight the Other's departure to look again upon the throne. Thanos sat forward out of the shadow, and Loki saw the blue and craggy face he was to spend eternity with.

Loki did as told, scuttling but the shortest distance he thought would satisfy obeisance, and folding his hands in front of him like a child.

“closer...”

Loki inched another step, a hallow dread filling him as he avoided entering within reach of the giant's arm.

“closer...”

Another step, and Loki felt as if he was standing on the precipice of a deadly fall, so frightful was his nearness to the titan.

“Come here, damn you!”

The Overmaster's thunderous voice caused Loki to jump in shock. He closed his eyes and forced his legs to move forward until his toes touched the foot of the throne. When he re-opened his eyes, he saw the ancient face staring up at him as if enraptured.

“Yes. Now I see,” the Overlord said, looking upon the delicate features of his new possession. “The perfect union of darkness and light, the gem-like grandeur of your eyes and the pink bloom of your lip, the sharp angles of your face contrasting perfectly with the devilish softness of your skin. Come to me, that I may feel for myself its divine texture.”

Loki did not have to force himself to obey; Thanos grabbed his wrist and pulled so that Loki came tumbling into his lap.

“Oh yes, my unholy precious,” Thanos whispered, cradling Loki's tense body with one arm as his hand smoothed layer after layer of unwanted affection over Loki's stunned face and rigid neck, “I know your heart aches for your lost home and family, that you fear never to see the familiar halls of your palace again, but you must understand that you were meant for _me_. You are the reward for my loyalty and devotion to my Mistress, you are her gift, her embodiment. You are her soul, her essence made flesh. You have been given me that I may have a piece of her to press to my heart, to fill with my passion and to bring forth our glorious offspring.”

Loki's mind scattered at these words, so horrified was he by their implication. But he desperately gathered the pieces, and attempted to respond.

“But, my Dark Lord, I am ill-prepared to perform the sacred acts you speak of, and...” Loki began saying, swallowing hard and stuttering. Then he thought, that if he revealed his manhood to the giant, he may be judged worthless and expendable. No, he must gain his chance to be rescued.

“... you see I am untouched, and, well, fragile...”

The titan hummed in approval.

“... I require, well, I must have some time, and some privacy, to, prepare myself, for your great, or for our wondrous... consummation.” Loki choked out, not being able to stop the flow of hellish images that flooded his mind.

The Overlord chuckled and gave his pet a suffocating squeeze.

“Yes, of course, my beauty. You shall have as you wish. But first, grant me a kiss, a tiny sample of the bliss I shall reap from your bounty. Then I shall release you to your quarters, and you may have as long as you require while I dream of the ecstasy to come.”

Loki knew there was no way out of this abomination. He lifted his head, puckered the dainty flower of his mouth and pressed it to the lifeless clay surface Thanos' cheek. Then he smiled innocently.

“Aahh... so chaste, my child. My hunger begs for more, but if I have learned anything, I have learned patience during these millenia I have fought for my Mistress' favor. I release you: Go! And prepare to be unmade and reborn, when next we meet!” 

With that the Master snapped his fingers and there appeared a spider-like creature that Loki was invited to mount. He wondered what skills of sorcery the Overlord could really boast of, if he could only conjure such an ugly beast for his sweetheart to ride.

All the same, Loki mounted the disgustingly furry animal and waved goodbye to his husband, happy to be free from his lap. The beast transported him a short distance to a floating cave, where he disembarked and left the thing without. A great velvet curtain draped over the mouth of his chamber promised him the privacy he had waited so long for.

He threw himself on the great canopied bed within, not even tempted by the thought of rest. Thor! That was all he thirsted for, his rescue as well as his presence, his voice, his dear sight!

Once flat on his back, Loki then entranced himself to the plane of emptiness. He threw his spirit off, and felt it sail with speed toward its intended target. No matter how lost his physical body was in this universe, his soul could always navigate cleanly, almost effortlessly, to reach Thor.

It was just as before. Night filled the chamber and Thor's gold locks glowed in the moonlight where he lay sleeping in his bed. Loki sat at his side and gazed upon his brother's peace, tempted to remain silent and watch the gentle rising and falling of the Mighty Thor's chest. Oh, home and family! How could he have ever wanted anything more than this simple happiness!

For a moment he forgot his captive body, and believed that he could simply slip into bed beside Thor, just as he had as a child and put behind himself the awful chain of recent events. But no, the illusion of safety was as fraudulent as his presence in the room, and he had no time to waste.

“Thor!” he called in a strained whisper, and his brother's warrior instincts had him immediately risen and upright, Mjolnir in hand before Loki could even flinch.

“Who dares invade the Prince's chamber!” Thor righteously demanded before he had laid eyes on the trespasser.

“Strike not, brother! It is I, Loki! Your lost and desperate sibling, come to beg for your forgiveness and aid!” 

Loki fell to his knees in supplication, and the soundless drop alerted Thor to the phantom nature of Loki's appearance. Although he was surprised and gladdened to see his brother, his sharp mind was not so jarred as to be blind to Loki's tricks.

“Loki!” Thor repeated in disbelief, lowering the great hammer, “Tell me where you stand, for I will not hold discourse with your shadow!”

Loki lifted his face to his brother, and his eyes shone with emotion.

“'Tis impossible, brother. My body rests far beyond the darkness of the void, in the keep of the Dark Lord. Oh Thor, my torments have been great. I have been held captive, molested and violated-”

“How violated?!”

“Oh Thor, it has been unthinkable! They squeeze and coddle, pinch and pet, bathe me and force me to sit on their laps! I have been tickled, Thor!”

Loki paused at this last point for emphasis, for truly this might have been the worst atrocity he had endured so far. Seeing Thor was not impressed, he went on.

“Poked and manhandled by gruesome monsters! And now I have been married to this- this Overmaster who plans to 'fill me with his passion' that I may bring forth 'his glorious offspring.' He means to make me his queen!”

Loki collapsed back onto the floor. Thor, who now saw that his brother was living and admittedly unharmed, set Mjolnir beside him and lay back on his pillow dismissively.

“Is that not then what you have always coveted? A glorious throne to seat yourself upon and the worship and adoration of all those around you?” Thor asked, and turned away from the ghost to show him his indifference.

“No!” Loki cried, “I had feared it would be thus. You speak as if you knew already of my hardships because you have. Heimdall has seen my misadventures and reported them to you, but you care not what happens to me now-”

“Heimdall can see nothing!” Thor exclaimed, turning to look back on the lamenting shade, “How can he, with the debris from the Bifrost's destruction blocking his sights from nearly everything around us! And to say nothing of the boredom your little tantrum has caused me to suffer. There is nowhere to go, nothing for me to do but stalk the Gatekeeper and beg him to strain his vision for any sign of you! And now you come to me looking well enough, and your greatest complaint is that you've been tickled.”

“My greatest complaint is that I've been abandoned.” Loki replied. “I have done much evil, Thor, I know I have, and it has shown us both the error of our ways. You had your friends to seek you out and bring you home once you had learned your lesson, but who can I depend on? I have only you, Thor.”

“Would that it were possible for me to grant my aid, you would not need to beg.” Thor sighed, “But Loki, the disaster of the Bifrost and the mess of its scattered remnants make this impossible. We are isolated now, without any knowledge of what takes place in the other realms. There is no sorcerer great enough to understand the power of its workings and repair it, and not even the Allfather claims to truly perceive the magic he was able to wield when he created it. Meanwhile, a great war rages in the outer realms. Evil Thanos and his enthralled subjects spread death throughout the galaxies, and we are powerless to lend our strength. All thanks to you, Loki.”

Ordinarily, Loki would have began some pointless argument about whose mighty hand had indeed rent the Bifrost to pieces, but the mention of Thanos stilled his tongue. He had never heard the name during his short-lived kingship, for he had been so jealous of his throne that he would scarce take his backside from its seat to learn of what occurred in the universe he was responsible for. He was fortunate Thor had been much more informed on the events of the current.

“Thanos!” Loki finally spoke, “That is the name of the one who holds me! It is he, the Overmaster, the Dark Lord! Oh Thor, you must save me!”

Thor then sat up straight in his bed, for he now understood Loki's peril better even than his brother could. 

“Loki, I know the location of the Evil One's keep, but how can I reach you, or attempt to challenge Thanos in his own lair? Even if I could convince the Allfather to send me to fetch you with dark energy, he would never deliver me into the hands of certain death. For Thanos is one that can destroy even an immortal.”

Loki had thought for only a moment before his trickster mind had come up with a plan.

“Thor, it is for the purposes of lust that Thanos keeps me. Such drives cloud men's minds. If I can distract him upon your arrival, then you can slay him in his surprise, and release me as well as his other victims from his menace!”

Thor was struck by his brother's bravery; that Loki would willingly seduce the demon spoke not only of his fearlessness but also of his innocence, for truly he would not suggest such a thing if he knew what violation lay in wait for him.

“Brother, you know not what violence Thanos means to lay upon your dear body.” Thor warned, giving voice to his concerns. “It is more than tickling you will encounter in his arms!”

“Thor, he will visit these horrors upon my body regardless! I will have him alone, without his thralls to alert him to your arrival. Think of it! I can delay him, madden his senses with desire so that he will be completely unprepared when you strike. Then, we can return to Asgard drenched in glory, I will repair the Bifrost, and we can spend centuries in each other's company, healing the wounds of the past, traveling the bridge to wherever our fancy takes us- Alfheim, Jotunheim (if we're feeling really daring) even Midgard if that realm pleases you so much! You can show me around!”

Thor's heart was tossing in a sea of doubt. As much as he had dreamed of this moment, with Loki standing living before him, or his shadow at least, now that it was happening, questions filled him with distrust.

“Loki, how can you promise to repair the Bifrost, a nearly impossible feat, when you cannot even save yourself from your own troubles? And how have you cast your shadow to my chamber when you know not where your body lies?”

Loki stared back, dumbfounded, as if he never expected his brother to be so discerning. Put on the spot, Loki swallowed, and then replied with care.

“I confess I cannot answer the last question; it was a desperate attempt that I didn't fully believe would be fruitful. My magic is weak, it has not the potency that makes it so brilliant here, in the Golden Realm. I understand the Bifrost better than anyone, and when I return it will be repaired. But that I could find you, in this wide existence, when I could not save myself? That is a mystery, brother, but surely love is at the root of it. My spirit flies to you, as an unswerving arrow from a hunter on the verge of starvation, whose senses are sharpened by determination. And you are my salvation! Who beside you would I turn to?”

Thor's heart was not impermeable, and to hear his brother speak of his love and dependence was more than than he could resist. 

“Very well." Thor said, watching his brother's eyes light up. “I can guarantee nothing, for much depends on the Allfather. That is the best I can offer you.”

“Oh Thor,” Loki exclaimed, wishing he could throw himself into his brother's arms, for he truly could not believe how deep was the well of Thor's love and forgiveness. “That you would even attempt my rescue puts me forever in your debt!”

Thor, though touched by Loki's appreciation, knew that now was not the time for such emotional outpourings. “Loki, you must return presently to your body before Thanos finds you thus incapacitated. Prepare for me, and do as you have proposed.”

Loki shook his head, but with tears welling up in eyes again, said, “Thor I know you are right, but there is a great part of me that fears I may never see you again. Let me look upon you once more, for it may be the last lovely sight I will ever feast my eyes upon!”

Thor allowed Loki this, and as he saw himself reflected in Loki's green eyes, he steeled his heart against the fears that Loki expressed. He would not lose his brother.

“Loki, this will not be the last time. With or without the Allfather's blessing, no one can keep me from my duty to protect you. Now go Loki, fly back to yourself, and ~~think of me when you are in the arms of Thanos~~ remember I am coming for you. Fear not!”

With a nauseating thrill, Loki felt his spirit pulled out of Thor's bedroom and fly across the universe to his body lying on the luxurious bed where he had left it. When he opened his eyes, he found a Chitauri guard staring down at him curiously. He pointed to the mouth of the cave, where the ugly spider-mount was waiting to return him to the Overmaster.

Thor had been right. Thanos was eager to have his way with Loki's body, and he had returned just in time. He would have to go to Thanos at once, and hope his silver tongue would preserve his chastity and his life until Thor's terrible arrival.

As he rode miserably through the mists to meet Thanos, he wondered how much he could depend on Thor's rescue. What could Thor do if the Allfather refused? 

Suddenly emerging from the mist, Loki saw Thanos waiting for him, perched alone on a narrow cliff overlooking the galaxy. He beckoned the beast to bring his burden hither, and presently Loki was beside his atrocious husband.

“Why have you kept me waiting so long, my angel? Do you fear my love so much?” Thanos gathered Loki's slender fingers in his rough, dead hands, and smiled down at him. “Hmm? Share yourself with me. Tell me of your reluctance.”

“It is simply that, I have not been trained to know how to please you, Master, and fear to disappoint you. Also, I have been raised to protect my dignity most jealously, and fear the prying eyes of your minions upon my flesh.”

“My dear,” Thanos replied, as if Loki's words had wounded him through the heart, “there be no minions here. I am the fearsome Thanos, no enemy dares to attack me in my own lair. I need not guards. You see?” Thanos said sweeping a hand out across the empty space, “The beautiful silence, as private and lonely as death. As perfect, as untouched, as you.”

Loki choked on his disgust as Thanos grabbed his waist and pulled him close. He tried to consider the luck of their isolation, a perfect opportunity for Thor, as Thanos let his hands explore the curves below Loki's waist. It was excruciating, the monster's low growl expressing a pleasure Loki wished he could ignore. But he could not- he had to encourage Thanos' excitement.

He wrapped his arms around the devil's shoulders, and in the distance spied a small disturbance among the stars.

A storm?

Glee took hold of Loki's body like a fever. Could his prayers really be answered? As if to assure him, a light breeze stirred the quiet space around Loki and Thanos, signaling an impossible event. Thanos' roaming hands came to a standstill on Loki's rump as he lifted his head away, wearing a look of puzzlement and irritation across his face.

“You don't like it, my Lord?” Loki sang, blowing through his pursed lips over the monster's face. “I was taught that a sweetheart's breath is the greatest aphrodisiac to his lover. My father instructed me in the ways of love- I mean advised me. With words.”

Thanos grimaced, “Forget your idiot father's lessons. I would have you put that mouth to better use.” Then, tightening his hold around Loki, spoke in a deep and lascivious voice, “Kiss me, that I may taste the poison recess beyond your deadly lips.”

Loki knew it had to be done. He closed his mouth around the Thanos' cakey lips, and felt a heavy, dry protuberance enter. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, as if shutting out his sight would have any effect on his other senses. The vile kiss lingered, and just as Loki felt that he could no longer contain his revulsion, a great crack of whitest light broke the space around them, his eyes shot open, and out of the tear came a flash of red and the blast of thunder.

Loki fell back, or rather, was tossed away by the violator who held him. He looked up, and never had he seen such rage and fury in the sight of his brother. The divine hammer came hurling down towards the devil, who conjured a shield to protect himself. When Mjolnir collided with his magic, the clash erupted into a great explosion that sent flesh and offal scattering in all directions and splintered the ground beneath him. Loki had no chance to gather the outcome of the burst as the rock on which he stood crumbled and fell into darkness. He struggled, and found purchase on the remaining cliff, hanging hopelessly and unable to see beyond his gore-flecked knuckles if there were any survivors above.

Once again, Loki found himself dangling above the abyss, his fingertips clinging to life. But life was not so dear to him now without his brother. He could hear no noise above his head as to evidence Thor's survival, and Loki feared the worst. This time, without an audience, he would release himself to the darkness truly hoping she would offer him the peace of death. Loki watched his fingers slowly slipping from their hold. He closed his eyes, and prepared for the fall.

Then, a great hand suddenly clasped his own. He opened his eyes to see Thor, the Great One, hauling him upwards. Loki cried for joy as he brought his other hand to Thor's, holding it tightly. Once upon the cliff, Loki fell into Thor's arms, forgetting the danger that surrounded him or the pieces of Thanos' corpse that lie scattered around them. 

“Thor! I thought you dead, brother!” Loki shouted above the maelstrom that still raged above their heads as he clutched Thor to his chest.

Thor was happy to have his little brother safe and in his arms again, but his thoughts could not stray from the present.

“We must leave this place at once! The minions will soon learn of their master's demise, and come for vengeance!”

And without another word, Thor held Loki as tightly as possible and raised Mjolnir to the storm, and in a flash they were drawn up in its frenzy. The chaos lasted only a moment, before they were spit back out again with equal force. 

Loki raised himself up and looked around. The sun shone brightly across a desert landscape, burning his eyes, but this discomfort was tempered by a mild and rather pleasant atmosphere that he took into his lungs with deep breaths.

Thor was already standing, brushing himself off.

“What unknown region of the Golden Realm is this?” Loki asked apprehensively.

“We're not in the Golden Realm.” Thor answered.

“Not in the Golden Realm? Where are we then?”

Thor helped Loki to his feet, and put a comforting arm around his disheveled and worried brother.

“I defied father by coming to your rescue. I expected no less than his refusal, and am sure he will be unsurprised when he learns that I proceeded without his consent. Knowing of the keep's location, I used Mjolnir's power to send me there, along with what I learned in your books of world-walking. I must confess, I was still very surprised by my success!” Thor explained humbly.

“You... what? You reached me with... by yourself?” Loki stammered out, impressed by Thor's accomplishment.

“Without the Bifrost to provide me with adventures, I had plenty of time for scholarly pursuits. I threw myself into your books, and believing you still to be alive, somewhere, decided to learn the methods necessary to seek you out. It is no great thing, Loki. But now I suspect father will be displeased with us both, making it a fine time for an extended holiday.”

Thor clapped Loki on the back and pulled him closer. “You see there, little brother?” Thor asked pointing to a small cluster of rooftops barely visible on the horizon. “There the mortals will make you a delightful brew that will have you feeling your old self in no time. But I warn you- allow me to make the introductions. The memory of their village's destruction may still cast you in a bad light.”

Loki, still overwhelmed by everything he had endured, was unable to walk. Thor laughed, urging him forward with his arm.

“Come, now is the time for pancakes and coffee. The Bifrost can wait. First, you can start by helping these mortals repair their little hamlet. Then, later, we can go for a mule ride. I missed the opportunity on my previous visit.”

And with that, the great brothers stepped toward the village. They indeed had their coffee, and their mule ride, which Loki enjoyed most thoroughly. 

The End.


End file.
